Should Have
by SallySorrell
Summary: Jack/Renee... She had the opprotunity, but didn't take it. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**I don't know… this is my first attempt at Jack/Renee stuff. Enjoy!**

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I should have.

I had opportunities, and I didn't take them.

But you can't blame me, I don't take risks. _He_ does. I'm only learning to.

And what a lesson this would've been. Should've been… whatever.

I _should have_ kissed him.

I insulted him earlier, bringing up the death of his wife and many of his friends, as if I had something to brag about. As if I was right.

I slapped his face, shouting at him. Asking him if he _felt_ anything. If he was _human_.

I was going to kiss him then, because I felt like it. Right after I slapped him, I was going to just lean in and kiss him, hard. That's what I wanted to do, but I didn't. I should've.

Then, I found him again in the White House. Sitting useless beside a dead body. Bill Buchanan's body. I had met him earlier in the day, and I knew what he meant to Jack, he was one of the few people Jack could trust.

And I was going to sit down beside him, and kiss him on the cheek, in an attempt to offer some condolence. Maybe it would've helped. Maybe he would have appreciated it. But too bad, I didn't do it.

Later, we talked him into continuing an interrogation. _I_ arranged the whole thing. When he came back to thank me, I was going to kiss him. Of course I didn't then either.

Instead, I ended up arguing with Larry Moss. Stupid.

He told me how I was starting to act more like Jack Bauer, and that he didn't like that. He fired me, if that's what you want to call it.

Then he told me he loved me. What timing, right?

I turned around and headed to the helicopter where Jack would be.

I'd tell him Moss fired me.

Maybe _he'd_ be willing to take the risk.

If not, I _will_.


	2. Chapter 2

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I wrote this way too quickly, so I'm sure it's nothing special.

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I got onto the chopper, just before it left. Jack was there, I sat beside him.

I had planned on kissing him then, but really, it was too loud in the helicopter for that kind of thing.

But still.

"Moss fired me." I shouted, trying to sound calm.

I know he heard me, because then he put his hand, very awkwardly, onto my shoulder.

Not a kiss, no. But I figured this was a rare sign of affection from Jack Bauer, and I allowed it.

"Why?" he asked, though I'm sure he knew the answer.

"He said I act too much like you."

He looked proud. In an odd sort of way.

"You'll live longer."

I figured this was also a rare compliment from Jack Bauer.

Now I certainly felt special.

Affection and a compliment, within moments. But would he kiss me?

Still, I couldn't force myself to do it. But he could. What was a kiss compared to other things he had risked his life for?

Maybe I could convince him. How much sympathy did he feel for me? Did he feel bad for me? Yes he did, that's what I wanted.

I went on and on about Larry Moss (stupid) and wrong decisions he had made.  
I tried the other side of the issue, telling Jack that he had made the right decisions.

And I got nothing.

Nothing except Jack's arm, now draped over my shoulders.

And that was sufficient for a first attempt.


	3. Chapter 3

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Author's Note: I feel I should warn everyone here… If you're behind on season seven (compared to the US) then I urge you to catch up before reading this… Thanks and Enjoy!

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Jack went alone to do the interrogation. I ended up in a holding room at FBI headquarters.

Thank you very much Larry Moss. I'll remember that when you tell me you love me, Stupid.

I should've gone with Jack. I should've said no to Moss, but ya know what? Risks aren't yet my department.

But I should've gone. Now, Jack's been framed for murder. Great.

Oh, I know he didn't do it.

I've got to get this risk thing down today. It may be my last chance…

Last I heard about Jack, he was exposed to some bio-weapon. No one told me exactly what, so that's stressing me at the moment. It could kill him, I don't know.

I don't know when I'll see him again. Larry won't let me out of holding for anything. Jack has no reason to come back to FBI, and I know he won't. Tony Almeida, one of a few people he'd give his life for, is being held hostage. That could shorten my timeslot.

So, once I convince Moss to let me out of here, I'll find Jack.

And… kiss him?

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A/N again: Yah… I don't know about that chapter. Let me know what you think. I'm not sure if it goes with the other chapters. If you feel that's the case, it's going down. Thanks as always!


	4. Chapter 4

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Author's Note: I feel I should warn everyone here… If you're behind on season seven (compared to the US) then I urge you to catch up before reading this… Thanks and Enjoy!

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I cried.

Larry told me Jack was exposed, and his blood tested positive for whatever virus he and Tony were tracking.

Marvelous, he has less than a day to live. Oh, dementia and paralysis too, wonderful.

Larry made an attempt at redeeming himself by letting me be the one to brief Jack.

I walked in to the holding room where Jack was.

He was changing out of the clothes he'd been forced into while he was quarantined.

"Sorry." Is what he said when I came in. He said it as if the scars, gashes and burns across his chest offended me, and he promptly covered them with a shirt.

I should've been the one saying sorry.

Sorry he was dying, sorry I hadn't been on the field with him earlier, sorry Larry was so stupid in not trusting him, sorry I'd just walked in on him without knocking.

"I need to brief you on the Starkwood situation…" was my reply, monotone.

"Fine."

He was acting normal, at least the normal _Jack Bauer_ is known for.

"Jack, I'm…" here comes, "I'm… sorry."

"Don't be."

"Is there anything I can do? _Anything_?"

He shook his head, as if nothing was different about today.

How many terrible days like this had he been through?

The fact that he was dying didn't seem to bother him at all. I assumed he hadn't processed it yet, but still.

I went over to him, and put a hand softly on his shoulder before I left the room.

The very edges of his lips twitched upward for a moment, and I decided I'd done something helpful.

I decided kissing him at this point would be going too far.

I didn't need to be the one to torment him before he dies. To remind him of the emotion and love that he's put on hold for years and then watch him die.

But he didn't seem to mind my hand on his shoulder. So I stayed in the room with him, not moving, barely breathing.

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**A/N again: I don't think that one fits in, but whatever, let me know what you think!  
And _everyone _seemed to be saying "sorry" last episode, over and over. I think that's a record.  
Thanks for reading, your thoughts and tips are greatly appreciated!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I haven't seen this weeks episode yet, this is purely speculation. **

I had to leave the room. Larry paged me to ask some stupid favor.

I was gone for ten minutes at the most.

And I returned to an awful sight.

Before I opened the Holding Room door, I peered in through the hazy window.

Jack was looking around the room. No big deal…

I walked in, doing my best to smile. I lost it when he smiled back.

Now _this_ wasn't normal.  
Either he now had some feelings for me that he wanted to express (was_ dying_ to express), or he had no clue who I was.

"Jack?" I asked him, looking him right in the eyes.

It took him a moment to look back at me, to respond to his name.

"R…R-Renee."

Good, he remembers _me_ at least... That was a selfish thought, wasn't it?

I sat down on the chair next to him, and returned my hand to its gentle place on his shoulder. He shuddered as I placed my hand down. As the memory seemed to drift back to him, he relaxed.

I opened the folder I had brought with me, containing the newest info on the Starkwood situation.

"Tony has a team there now; one of Hodges's associates is helping us through an operation."

"Good."

Then someone knocked on the door. Larry, actually.

The sound seemed to shock Jack, everything did.

As I turned to look to the door, I heard the chair beside me hit the ground.

I didn't care if Larry was locked out, no matter what he wanted to say.

Jack was on the ground too, under the chair. It was light-weight enough, that didn't worry me.

What did was the fact that Jack was shaking. A terrible, violent shiver worse than any type of seizure I'd ever witnessed.

"_Jack_!"

I threw myself from my chair, and knelt beside him. Probably not the best idea, but whatever. I take risks now.

"Jack!!" I said, over and over.

He managed to turn his head and look at me, as if his mind was separated completely from whatever his body was doing. He kept his eyes on me until the shaking stopped.

I felt his pulse, it was still coming regularly.

He wasn't dead.

His eyes were still open, and studying me.

"I'm sorry." He said again.

Larry pounded on the door.

"You have nothing to be sorry for Jack, not after what you've done today or ever."

I pulled his chest up until it was resting over my knees. I held his head up with one of my hands. I ran the other through his hair, hoping it would comfort him somehow.

"Ren…"

He pulled my face down until it was directly above his own.

Was this it?

Yes, I was folded over him, and he somehow managed to push his face up against mine.

Then more of Larry's pounding on the door.

He forced his lips against mine, harshly.

It lasted barely a second then his head collapsed back into my hands.

"Jack…?" I managed, gasping.

I felt his pulse again, still there.

He was the one that had bent. Both of us had been building such emotions all day, and he was the one to finally take the risk.

But that's Jack Bauer for you. Unpredictable, and quite needy when it comes to love.

Larry nearly broke the door down.

"Renee!" he shouted.

"Larry, I don't care what it takes, you and I are going to find a cure for this damn virus, and we're going to find it _today_!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Okay, now I've seen the new episode. Here we go again.**

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**

Larry called for the medic; she had to drag me away from Jack to get anything done.

I went back into the Holding Room once she had left, and Jack was giving himself some sort of injection, telling me it would 'control the shaking'.  
Well that's nice. What about the dementia?

I met the medic a few yards outside the door.

"There's_ no_ cure?" I asked her, very annoyed.

"None."

"I'm sure there is, you're just not _looking_ for it."

Something inside of me wanted to slap her, but I didn't. I should have.

"There isn't."

"Then I'll contact someone who knows what they're doing." I told her, turning away. Why do insults get things done?

She stopped me.

"There is an _experimental_ treatment facility; they're working on a generic anti-virus. I don't know if it's quite strong enough to tackle whatever Jack has, but you can give it a try. It's strictly experimental, so don't be getting your hopes up."

"What do I need to do?"

"Get some help from his closest living relative." She led me to a computer station, and pulled up information on the center.

I knew Jack had a daughter, I read it in his file.

"Larry!" I called as I saw him enter the room, "Get me current contact information for Kimberly Bauer."

He left to do so. He'd finally caught on to the fact that he should listen to me.

Did he remember I don't even technically work for him?

I went back to the room where Jack was.

"Hey." He said to me, as if nothing had happened. His shirt had been removed again. Presumably by the medic for some reason.

He reached to the seat across from him, where his shirt sat, folded neatly.

"Jack, it's okay." That was an odd thing for me to say, and I hoped he interpreted it the way I intended.

He pulled his hand away, looking right at me.

"Renee, I…" he thought for a moment, but added nothing to the sentence.

"It's okay, Jack." I repeated, "I've been trying to talk myself into it all day."

"Into what?"

Great…

"K-Kissing m…?"

"Oh, that."

"Look, Jack," I kept repeating his name, as he didn't seem completely focused, "I'm working on finding a cure for you, okay? I'm not going to let you die, Jack."

The most peculiar look spread its way across his face. Some mix of a smile, pout and a bewildered look.

But I knew why.

He'd risked himself for the people he'd loved, and lost them.

Now, here, someone returned the favor, and I don't think he was expecting it.


	7. Chapter 7

Less than an hour later, Larry was on the field, to locate Tony.

Tony had just saved a million lives, at the risk of his own, and we had to find him before Starkwood did.

A part of me wanted to go in with him, but the majority now preferred Jack.

Nothing exciting, not until Janice got a phone call.

She shook her head as she answered, then, with no explanation, handed the phone to me.

"Hello?" I was annoyed, and would express that to Janice later.

Whoever was on the other end told me Larry was shot dead.

Well that makes it sound official, no introduction, just a cold, "Larry Moss was shot and killed. Agent Almeida is injured."

And then Janice was requested from the person on the phone.

I walked away, and considered crying.

Not weeping, by any standard. A tear or two, something deserved, considering I'd lived with him, and (I regret saying this) _loved_ him.

My eyes watered, but no tears. Oh well, I didn't want to force myself to cry. I'd let my emotions do what they felt was necessary.

"That's it, I'm going. Someone call his ex-wife, she should probably know about this."

I turned and left Janice alone with her orders.

Someone must've told Jack about it, because, as I boarded the helicopter, he ran out too.

He waved at the pilot to wait, and then pulled himself into the seat beside me.

I should've told him about Larry. Told him anything.

But he started talking.  
"I know he you feel." He said, "I know _exactly_ how you feel."

So he felt nothing? I didn't feel anything. He assumed I felt some sort of grief, I'm sure.

I'd read in his file about cases like this.

"Jack, you shouldn't be here." I told him, my best attempt at changing the subject.

Though changing it to his own death and suffering probably wasn't the best thing for me to do.

"No, I should be here. It's just a risk. Nothing I haven't done before."

What? Had he read my thoughts earlier? Word-for-word?

"But you're _dying_, Jack."

He didn't answer.

His head hung low between his shoulders, and he examined the helicopter floor beneath us.

He was sitting about as close to me as he could get, which I hadn't noticed until now.

"Jack, are you _positive_ there's nothing I can do?"

"Promise me something."

"Fine."

"Don't get anyone I care about dragged into this."

Hmm, am I on that list yet?


	8. Chapter 8

**Why do I abandon stuff? I need to stop doing that, it's bad. Haha. **

**Umm... I promised this to M. Keener, so here it is. **

**It's not amazing, but I haven't re-watched any of the season, so, some details may be off. Let me know. **

**Enjoy!**

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The rest of the day kind of blurred. I mean, I remember everything in vivid detail, but not in order.

Basically, the next major event was Jack getting... kidnapped. And by Tony.

I was in no state to be in charge of the FBI, but I had taken this position anyway, by default.

Jack wouldn't let me go with him, because his daughter was now somehow involved. Apparently I'm not on the list of people he cares about. Or maybe I am, and he was protecting me.  
Whatever. I may not get the chance to ask him. I just get to assume.

The next time I saw him (he was alive, even. Wasn't expecting that...) he had a bomb strapped to him. Damn Tony.

I kissed his cheek as I removed the vest from him. Not smart, considering we were in the middle of a vast fire-fight. Too bad. I don't think he was even paying attention. I could feel him panting, and he was shaking a bit, as if another seizure were about to take over.

I turned and shot off a few rounds, breaking myself of this untimely behavior.

I had arrived in the FBI helicopter with a field team, after tracking Tony. He wasn't a terrorist, per se... he was out for revenge. I refused to believe he was a terrorist. Jack convinced me of this.

A few more shots and whoever we were after was taken into custody. Tony ran. Jack stumbled up and followed him, leaving me. I chased them into the main warehouse on the premises.

Jack was holding his gun out at Tony. I don't believe he'd pull the trigger, and I could tell Tony thought the same.

Tony turned around, breathing heavily.

Then he told the story of his revenge plot (told you so) and Jack lowered the gun. Not purposely. He fell into another shaking fit, and the gun slid across the floor. Tony took the opportunity and left, and no one went after him. I ordered everyone to stay put.

Jack tried to get up, tried to chase after him again.

"Jack, that's an order!" I shouted after him, as he sort of limped away.

He wasn't thinking clearly, it was obvious. What would he do when he caught up to Tony? And what chance did he even have of catching him?

Someone else called his name. He looked at them, never at me.

It was some doctor, who had recently arrived, a stretcher rolling beside him.

Slowly, he began walking toward the doctor, sensing safety, I guess. At the same pace, I met him. I walked the rest of the short distance with him, helping him balance. He was shaking again, a little, but it didn't interrupt him. He proceeded toward the stretcher, as if it were a final mission. Maybe it was.

The doctor helped him onto the stretcher, and then, without a word, wheeled him away to the parking lot.

I talked with him maybe ten minutes later. With Jack, I mean.

He was awake and thinking again, thanks to some medicine. More of the seizure preventing one.

I don't even remember what we were talking about. It was brief though, because he needed to be taken to a hospital immediately.

I wanted to follow him. I wanted to ride there with him. To talk to him, to hold him, to tell him what amazing things he'd done that day.

But I didn't. I went back to the FBI. I went back to my _job_, to do what I needed to. I did exactly what I should have.

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**The end. Or is it? Don't like it, let me know and I'll end it differently :)**


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